


I'm Not Around

by Elevensy



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Avengers Family, Hurt Tony, M/M, Protective Steve Rogers, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-11 01:40:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 9,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8948197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elevensy/pseuds/Elevensy
Summary: Tony is getting tired of faking he's hurt. Steve's a jerk. Natasha is smarter than them all. Bruce plays doctor. Clint eats food. All in all, happy, but some serious crap is about to go down.





	1. Fifteen Minutes

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Thanks for even looking at this. I'm so new to this whole thing, but I LOVE STONY. Seriously the best fandom ever. I'll update this pretty frequently, and it's totes gonna start slow, but that's just so I can get into the feel of the story. Stay classy!

_Fifteen more minutes to go, fifteen useless minutes, and then I’m out of here, away from all of this. Just don’t say anything snarky or sarcastic, or Rogers’ is going to be all over you._  Tony thought to himself, all while receiving a lecture from Fury. Normally he’d make snarky comments, but this time all he wanted was to be alone. Snarky comments usually did nothing to provoke an argument, which normally, hey, it would have been fine. But, seeing as he was crammed in a room, once again, with people who couldn’t really stand the sight of him, plus the fact that he’d been having that same stupid recurring nightmare, he’d rather not prolong the agony.

He’d usually wake up in a cold sweat, his throat raw from yelling. The first night, FRIDAY had attempted to alert the team, but Tony decided that it was pointless to bother them about a dream, so he told Friday not to alert the team if he had something so silly as a bad dream. FRIDAY responded with her normal sass, “Okay boss, but I’m not a fan of you screaming into my ears.”

He sighed, not realizing how loud it actually was.

“Got something to say, Stark?” Steve’s voice dripping with annoyance.

“Not much, Cap. Just working things out.” Tony knew to keep things vague around Steve. If he said something specific, America’s Golden Boy would run off with it, and start lecturing on how things should be, how things were so different, etc. He didn’t want to add that on the list of things to delay his privacy.

“Anyways, as I was saying before we were lovingly distracted by Blonde Beauty, and Techno Geek, after the current events of New York, plus this whole deal with Loki, we should be laying low. You may have saved the world, but you’re still in it. Don’t do anything stupid. Class dismissed.” Fury pointed towards the door.

Tony stood, gracefully, and exited without a rush.  Being the poster child of a multibillion dollar company had taught him to hide his true feelings well. Even with the ‘Avengers’ (which Tony thought was hilarious that they shoved all of these adults – kids more like it – into a “save the world” group), who, yeah , they were his family, but still. One was an assassin, who he was sure would kill him in his sleep at the drop of a hat. Modern day Legolas, complete with bow and fun costume. Green rage monster. Random alien-god guy who spoke weird English. Oh, and don’t forget Mr. Perfect himself: Captain America. Because Tony hadn’t heard enough about him as a baby, a child, a teenager.  The walking legend, the person that Howard would claim searched for,  discarding his less than average son for the memory of the only son Howard could ever think of. Tony had stopped being jealous years ago. He knew he’d never live up to the dreams of Howard.

Steve was exactly how Tony thought he’d be: self-righteous, demanding, and so convinced that everything had to be perfect and fair. Even the people around him were required to act that way. The only thing stopping Tony from acting that way (he totally could, being a perfect puppet, faking it for the best of everyone)was that he figured someone might need to take the high and mighty Captain off his high horse. Even Wonder Boy couldn’t get his way ALL of the time.

To be honest, Tony didn’t exactly make it his life mission to annoy the guy, but he did push and prod occasionally to get Star Spangled Banner to think a little differently about things. Well, more like, get him used to the idea that other people had ideas too, and they could be the complete opposite of what he wanted. 

Tony followed the team out of the conference room. The trip to his room consisted of getting on the elevator, albeit a smidge cramped due to everyone, save Fury, riding it up to their own floor. Tony had told the team that for their own comfort, they each had a floor to themselves, customized to what they preferred. He figured it would be easiest since Fury seemed to enjoy a frequent lecture. Sure, Tony had the penthouse all to himself, but Steve’s floor was directly below his. So when everyone else had piled out on the other floors, Tony was stuck riding with his childhood hero.

Steve didn’t seem in the chatty mood, and neither was Tony. They nodded at each other, before Steve exited to his floor. Tony sagged, relieved that he was alone.

“Hey FRIDAY, blackout mode for the evening. Only give me emergency calls, kay?”

“Yep, Boss. I’ll handle it.”


	2. Let's fix Jay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now we know where JARVIS is, and TBH, Steve is kind of a douche to start with. It's okay. Things will iron out eventually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is becoming quite fun to write, but let's be honest, it's like pulling teeth at times. Meh. Enjoy, and hey, if you *want* something to happen, hey let me know and I may just accidentally have it happen. ha.

The smell of his workshop was the most comforting Tony could think of after the long night. He’d headed down there immediately, wanting to forget about everything that had happened in the past few days. It was a mess. _He_ was a mess.

 _Time to get lost in the deep of technology,_ Tony thought to himself. He just prayed no one would interrupt, only because they’d ask questions, get in the way, and try to fix things that couldn’t be fixed. He couldn’t be fixed. He knew it, and he knew everyone knew it. Easiest solution: avoid all the do-gooders.

He stepped out of the elevator into the workshop, breathing in the faint smell of oil, grease, and gasoline. _Home. This is where I belong._ He shuffled on over to the desk, coffee in hand. He’d had the foresight to have a coffee machine installed in the workshop. Pepper joked that he no longer had a reason to leave the shop. Which in all reality that WAS the point. Avoidance.

“Hey kids”, he called to DUM-E, and the empty shell of what was left of JARVIS. That was priority today. Find a way to bring Jay out of the lifeless heap. Tony consoled himself with the thought that JARVIS attempted to stop Loki from taking over the tower, but the power from his staff, along with the hulk smashing through some of his parts (which wasn’t on purpose), most computers wouldn’t work as well.

The words of Howard came back to him, “You’re a Stark. You build the best.” That phrase was usually accompanied by a fist, sometimes even whatever object was close enough. Tony shook his head, ridding himself of the memories. Strolls down memory lane were best accompanied by the strongest bottle of whatever he had.

“Fri, get me a schematic for Jay’s boards,” Tony called out, “And surprise me which album of Black Sabbath we’re listening to today.”

“M’kay, Boss. Schematics are on your holo now.” FRIDAY proceeded to shuffle ALL of Tony’s Black Sabbath. She was a good girl.

*********************************

“Tony…..Tony? Anthony Stark, wake up!” He heard the familiar click of heels across the floor. Pepper.

“Mmm. Yes, Pep?” Tony groaned, stiff and sore. He’d fallen asleep sitting in his stool. “What’s up?”

“Tony, you’ve been in here for a week. Actually more. 8 days.” Pepper quickly got her stern tone. “Get yourself cleaned up, you’re needed upstairs.” She started walking away. “Oh, and Tony?”

“Yeah, Pep?”    

“You’re talking about someone in your sleep again. I’ll wait to tell you who, until I know you won’t freak out.” She laughed as she stalked out, lithe and graceful.

Tony stood up and stretched, glancing down at the work in front of him. JARVIS was almost back. Just a test or two to run, a reboot, and Jay would be back. He’d created FRIDAY as a backup, knew that someday Jay might be for something more. Fri could go back in waiting once Jay got running again.

After dragging himself through a shower since FRIDAY wouldn’t tell the coffee maker to run until he was clean (Pepper somehow had control over everything, even the robots), he somehow made it upstairs to the com floor.

The com floor was empty, it seemed, so he limped on over to the coffee machine in the kitchen. After his second cup, he turned to sit on the couches, suddenly greeted by the eager faces of his “team”. He jumped, but instinctively tightened his grip on the coffee.

“Morning.” He mumbled. At that the Clint laughed.

“It’s three in the afternoon, Tony,” Natasha breathed, “Been busy?”

“Yeah, anyways, what’s with the gathering?” Tony gulped more coffee. “Please tell me this isn’t group therapy. It’s great you want to go all ‘Dr. Phil – Share-bear, emotional messes, but I’m allergic to all spectrums of human emotion.”

Bruce rolled his eyes. He knew Tony was joking, but of course, Steve bristled. “Shut up Steve, Tony’s pulling your chain.”

“Sure, funny guy, laugh about stuff that actually matters.” Steve couldn’t control himself.

“Oh, shut up Steve. You really think that if you needed to talk about something Tony would actually turn you away?” Natasha had no emotion on her face, or her voice, and that’s when Natasha got scary. “He made your suit, shield, room, and has given each of us access to enough money to buy countries. Yeah, that’s the type of guy who cares absolutely nothing about us.”

That shut Steve up pretty quickly. Natasha was right, as always. They all knew Tony gave them free reign, and even though Natasha knew how Tony thought the team felt about him, she didn’t think the team actually thought that way about it. Well, not the team. Steve.

Everyone else loved Tony. He treated them how they wanted to be treated, and yeah, he said sarcastic things every once in a while, but if they ever needed one on one time, Tony would stop whatever he was doing and listen.

“Now that we’re all just so happy with each other, let’s get food.” Clint suggested. Leave it to Clint to stay on top of the food situation.

“Actually Robin Hood, I’m not hungry,” Tony said, before Tasha rolled her eyes.

“Boss hasn’t eaten in 3 days, 13 hours, and 45 minutes.” FRIDAY spoke up. She threw in bits of information from time to time when she figured she needed to help.

“Okay, fine, I could eat something right about now.” Tony said to no one in particular. He glanced at the ceiling, “Traitor,” he mumbled before walking over to the pantry to pull stuff out and somehow make something edible.


	3. Pancakes and Mr. Wrong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isn't Tony always wrong when it comes to relationships with anyone?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!
> 
> Sorry this took so long. Christmas was hectic, and it's just getting busier, but hey, pinky promise, I'll write more. It's just getting where I like it.
> 
> Peace!

This weird outburst from Tasha had Tony’s mind spinning. He figured the best way to get past it was to do what he did best: ignore it. He couldn’t change anything, and he knew it. The team didn’t know about the nightmares, the crippling self-hatred he could have at times, and that was best. Tony Stark was strong, the man with an iron will. He was Ironman.

Once he wandered out of the pantry, accompanied by Tasha, he realized he had everything to make pancakes. Well, they were his favorite. _Except coffee. Let’s never ever forget coffee._ Tony may have an addictive relationship to coffee, but he didn’t care.

“I’ll get some plates” Clint said, grabbing some butter too, eagerly waiting for the food, eyes bigger than his stomach.

“Good thing Thor isn’t around,” Tony chuckled. “We’d have been out of food weeks ago.”

No one had heard from Thor, but they weren’t worried. Whenever they needed the Norse God, he was there. Plus no one had the nerve to tell him what to do. They just assured him he was always welcome, and free to come and go as he pleased.

The room stayed dead silent, even after Tony’s attempt at a lame joke. The silence put him on edge even more. He knew what they all were thinking. _Shut up, Tony. Just cook the stupid pancakes and go downstairs, where you’re out of everyone’s way. It’s where you belong. You belong away from everyone._ Tony unconsciously stiffened; it was as if he felt the tension around the room crowding him, making it hard for him to breathe. Tasha was the only one to notice.

“Tony? You okay?”

Tony snapped out of his downward spiral, just long enough to flip the last pancake of at least twenty he had made. “Huh?” He brushed his shirt a little haphazardly. “Oh yeah, I’m great. Mmmhmmm.” He flashed his broad smile, and grabbed a pancake, a coffee, and walked away briskly.

****************************************************************************

“Hey Boss, Captain America is at the door, wanting to join you.” FRIDAY interrupted. Tony had been engrossed in building a new quiver for Clint; he didn’t realize the knocking he heard from across the workshop.

“Eh, what does he need?” Tony whined.

“He wants to talk, apparently.” FRIDAY answered, even though Tony had meant that rhetorically. “Shall I tell him to leave a note, or something?”

Tony contemplated for a second. “Naw just let him in.”

Steve immediately strode into the room, full speed, and eyes searching and finally landing on Tony. Immediately, Tony felt small.

“What’s up Cap?” Tony aimed for careless and not exhausted.

“Oh, Tony. Hi. Um. Look, about earlier….”

Tony knew what was coming. So he decided to beat him to the punch. “Yeah, I know. I’m wrong. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so thoughtless. I apologize.” Tony let out a sigh.

“Wait, what?” Steve looked at him as though Tony had sprouted wings.

“I get it. The whole ‘I need to straighten out misbehavior.’ Don’t worry, won’t happen again.” Tony said, before turning his back, and picking up his half eaten pancake, and now cold coffee. _Please let him just accept the apology and leave. I can’t stand someone yelling at me right now, and clearly not him. I already had one guy yell at my all growing up, and I can’t bear the thought of him yelling too._

“No, Tony, you don’t get it….” Steve paused.

“Yeah, I know. I don’t think I will. I wasn’t around in the good old days.” Tony had heard this lecture before. Multiple times. A few times from Steve himself.

“Tony, just listen.” Steve said, trying not to let his frustration show. “I’m apologizing for my behavior.”

“Why on earth would you do that?” With that, Tony dropped his head to the ground. This wasn’t going as planned, but he knew what would happen. Steve was humoring him. It was a game of pretending to care about Tony’s feelings. There was no way that Steve would actually care about his feelings.

Steve’s cheeks flushed. “I wasn’t being fair and kind to you. It was wrong of me.”

Tony felt even more lost. No one apologized for treating him unfairly. He never thought someone did. Rather, he felt that however anyone treated him was just fine. He couldn’t control it, and with someone like Steve (and if Tony was being honest with himself, Steve was in fact his childhood hero – maybe even a crush at some point) there was no way Tony could be the one treated wrong. That was what he did. Not what Golden Boy did. Hearing Steve claim blame felt so wrong, like changing the directional flow of an electric current.

“Oh? Um, okay.” Was all Tony managed to croak out. “I, uh, have to go. Just ask FRIDAY if you need anything.”

And with that, Tony all but ran to his room, feeling as though his world had been turned upside down, and remembering the conversation that just took place, thinking about how he had done something, anything wrong. He knew he did. He always did. That’s why Mr. Right hated him so. Because Tony was always Mr. Wrong.


	4. Not even You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seriously. A Summary? Steve. Tony. Bruce. Bam. Summary complete.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, whoever you all are, you guys are my favorites. I seriously never thought that anyone else would enjoy my writing, but apparently, someone does! 
> 
> Many thanks from the dark dusty recesses of my brain. 
> 
> I'm still here guys, and I'll try super hard to write more. :)

“Sir, shall I play the recording for you again?” JARVIS’ snarky voice had just the right amount of sarcasm. Tony breathed a sigh of relief.  JARVIS was back, and FRIDAY got limited to the official ‘Avenger floors’.

Not that Tony didn’t love FRIDAY. She was the daughter Tony would never have. But JARVIS was just…..familiar. He couldn’t place it. It was like coming home all over again. Not horrible, Howard filled, rage fest home. More like the home he built for himself, away from all the uselessness of society.

“Nope, I think that works, Jay. Thanks.” Tony ran his fingers through his hair for hundredth time. Even after watching that video over and over, he couldn’t see how Steve had done something wrong, but he was convinced it was him.

“My pleasure, sir.” JARVIS sank into silence, no sounds in the bedroom, save Tony’s quiet breathing, the words of Howard echoing in his ears.

_“You will always be wrong, won’t you? I can’t believe my own son is the biggest failure I have ever created.” Howard had stormed through the house, dragging Tony by his hair, bottle of whiskey in hand._

_“I’m sorry, please”, Tony begged, pleaded, tears streaming down his eleven year old face. “Papa, please. I’m sorry. Let me fix it, please. Please.”_

_Howards blow silenced Tony’s cries. “Don’t you dare cry, boy. No one will ever care if you get hurt.” He had thrown Tony into his room, gesturing loudly to the posters of Captain America. “I wanted him. I want him back, but all I got was this wimp of a son. Steve will always be twice the man you could ever dream to be. And he’s the only son of mine.” With that, Howard slammed the door, the force shaking the frame._

_Tony peeled himself off of the floor, and looked over the posters, sheets, drawing of America’s favorite hero. “No one will ever care if I get hurt.” He forced himself to stop crying. “Even you.”_

_The very next day, Tony had stripped his room of the man who he always knew as “Dad’s real son”._

*****************************************************************************

“You know, with the amount of time you spend down here, you’d think that you’re just a projection instead of an actual person.” Bruce yawned. He occasionally spent time in the lab with Tony. It was mostly relaxing, since they both got along pretty nicely. Tony thought Bruce had the mellowest personality, with maybe a few hot buttons, but while Tony joked about it, he knew he’d never push Green Rage monster out of hiding.

Bruce, well, he saw through Tony better than Tony saw through Tony. He knew that Tony had a hard time relating to others, because he grew up being pushed away from others, made to seem that he wasn’t human, and couldn’t feel the same way. It made Bruce’s heart ache, and he knew that the only support Tony was willing to receive was time together in the lab.

“That, my friend, is a brilliant idea.” Tony wiggled his eyebrows playfully. “I could make a projection of myself, and never have to leave the lab again! I mean there’s the whole matter of coffee, and Jay always seems to have the coffee machine moved upstairs.” He called out to the ceiling. “Not funny, Jay.”

“I am not sure as to what Sir is referring to, but I defer responsibility.” JARVIS answered sassily. “Seeing as Sir has not provided a body for me, my functionality is limited. What did Sir call me? Oh yes, a ‘glorified toaster’”.

Bruce laughed heartily. “I’m glad your back JARVIS. No hard feelings, eh?”

“Not at all, Dr. Banner.” JARVIS lapsed into silence.

“So, Dr. Brucie Bear, what brings you down to my lovely hearth?” Tony waved his screwdriver enthusiastically.

Bruce shrugged lightly. “To be honest, I like being down here. Figure you could use the company. Plus you have the best toys.” He fiddled with his tablet (which he knew Tony had given it to him, but Tony wouldn’t own up to it).

“Aw, and to think it wasn’t just my sparkling personality.” Tony feigned a kicked puppy look, and then laughed, short and anything but genuine. “Really, Bruce. What’s on your mind?”

“Okay, okay, you got me.” Bruce grabbed some parts and started moving things, feeling more comfortable in the movement and slight distraction. “I’m a little concerned about the team.”

“In what way?” Tony asked, hoping to sound nonchalant.

“Well, in my limited psychological experience, we’re all a mess. Tasha and Clint seem to be the only two somehow coping with this. Steve’s stayed in his room for at least a week now; he won’t come out for anything. And you haven’t left the lab in roughly 3 days.” Bruce sighed. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on with you two, but I’m worried if something happens, a mission, disaster, whatever, the team isn’t going to be able to work.”

Tony, being Tony, swallowed that stupid lump in his throat, and squared his shoulders. “I’m just peachy, Brucie, but I’ll go check on Steve.” The words came out painfully, Tony hoping that his voice didn’t betray how he really felt: confused and hurt. But Tony remembered. _No one will ever care if I get hurt._

******************************************************************************

Tony stood at Steve’s door. He had attempted to mentally prepare himself the elevator ride up, but nothing could prepare him for this.

“Hey, Cap, it’s Tony.” _No duh, Sherlock._ Tony realized Steve would recognize his voice. “I, uh, came to talk.”

Silence. Tony paused, feeling like a fool. He waited, counting to ten in the back of his head. Still no answer.

_Dad’s perfect son doesn’t have time for the fake son like me. Whatever._ Tony sighed, turning away.

The door opened abruptly, Steve standing in the doorway. He stared at the ground, only briefly meeting Tony’s eyes.

Instantly, Tony felt guilt. He could see the confusion on Steve’s face, and couldn’t think of anything to say.

“Um, hey Cap, I, uh, wanted to make sure you were okay.” Tony took a step back. “The other teammates got a little worried. Silly, eh?”

Steve’s eyes tightened minutely. “I’m great, Stark. I’m not a kid who needs to be checked up on. Just having some trouble sleeping.”

“No, you’re not, I get that. Sorry if it seems that way.” Tony blurted, and then stopped himself. He then proceeded to crush whatever emotion he was feeling to dust, and pretend he didn’t care that this man who he had worshipped as a child, was standing in front of him, upset at Tony. But that wasn’t important. What was important is that his Dad’s perfect son needed help. And Tony, being Tony, couldn’t say no, not even to himself. “I can run some tests with Bruce to see how we can help you sleep, if you’d like?” Tony casually threw that in there.

And for the life of Tony, he never thought America’s Golden Boy would ever look at Tony like Tony was worth anything more than what he was.


	5. Daydreamer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve needs some help in the sleep department. Tony helps because that's what Tony does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I'm liking where this is going more, and it made me think.... How cool would it be if I rewrote this story later from Steve's POV? Awesome, I know.
> 
> Once again, thank you for reading. (I wrote this at one in the morning, because I have problems.)  
> If you liked it, thanks. I hope it makes you feel good, think good, be good, and smell good.   
> In all seriousness though, let me know if you want/need anything.

Steve looked as though Tony had just offered to sing show tunes and carry Steve around the tower.

“Or, not, whatever you want.” Tony started rambling before pinching his leg to shut himself up. _Just leave Mr. America in peace, you moron._

Steve reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. “Actually, I’d love that. I just want to get back to normal.”

“Well, yeah. Sure.” It was Tony’s turn to look at Steve in surprise. “Meet you down there in ten.”

****************************************************************

The beat up couch in the lab creaked as Steve shifted. He had immediately made himself home there upon entering the lab. Tony tried to protest, but Steve ignored him. _If Golden boy wants to lay on a couch that probably should be burnt since it smells like grease and gasoline, and that crappy cologne I sprayed on it to prevent it from smelling like that, then whatever._

Tony sighed and started getting to work. He and Bruce questioned Steve, drew some blood, and that was it.

“You’re free to leave,” Tony announced,”I can have JARVIS send you the results as soon as we know.”

“Actually, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d love to stay in here.” Steve lay sideways and stretched out again, the couch groaning in protest. “My room just feels…..off. If you know what I mean?”

Tony did know. There were days that the thought of going to his bedroom bothered him. He always seemed to go alone these days, and of all things, Tony hated being alone. Regardless, Tony had come to accept that alone was all he had.

Instead of actually speaking his mind, Tony just nodded, turning to pull up the latest schematic for Clint’s arrows. He thought about redesigning the fletching to improve speed, and started tweaking the blueprint, coming up with several versions. He’d have them tested in simulation by JARVIS, and voila, Clint would have some brand new arrows already stacked in his quiver for the next mission. If there was ever going to be a next mission.

*******************************************************************

Tony lost himself somehow in the clanging of machinery, the physics of the new fletching, and the subtle changes he’d made. The arrows did prove well under the simulation, so Tony had JARVIS begin production on that, just in case.

“The outcome of simulation X for the arrows proved to be exactly what you predicted, Sir.” JARVIS complimented Tony, sounding very real for a moment. “Also, we have the results for Captain America’s case of insomnia, but I feel those would be redundant, as he’s sleeping on the couch right now.”

So that’s why Steve had gotten all quiet. _Just leave him, he needs the sleep. He’s probably dreaming about all the times he chewed you out in the past month. Maybe that’s the only thing that helps him sleep at night._

Tony rolled his eyes at the thought, but wandered up to his room, apparently much more exhausted than he had originally thought. He tripped over his own feet several times, but made it up eventually, mumbling to himself, but also telling JARVIS to keep an eye on Steve, and inform him once he woke that he is free to return to his bed.

Pausing by the bathroom, Tony looked at himself in the mirror. A sharp pain lanced through his heart, and that bothered him. Starks do not feel pain, nor do they have emotion. Tony couldn’t help but sigh. With that, Tony finally rolled into his bed, exhausted. _Dealing with Steve is draining, eh?_

Sleep found him quickly, but so did the nightmares, the blackness, and the sounds of crowds screaming in pain. Howard appeared belt in hand, and Tony was reduced to a five year old immediately.

Tony lurched forward, shaking off the nightmare before lying back down. He started to spread out more, but his hands and feet ran into something. Not something. Someone.

He actually fell out of his bed in surprise, completely shocked that not just anyone was in his bed.

Steve Rogers was in his bed.


	6. Black Sabbath Steve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waffles for everyone!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey friends,
> 
> Tell me what you think!
> 
> Stay classy :)

“Steve?” Tony couldn’t help himself drop the name loudly. “What the….”

He didn’t finish the sentence, instead choosing to jump out of the bed, away, pushing himself along the floor over against the wall. Steve mumbled something, and sat up, blonde hair sticking up every which way.

“Huh?” Steve yawned. “Mmmm, what’s wrong?” He stretched, popping his back.

“What the hell are you doing in my room, IN MY BED!?” Tony couldn’t help yelling that last part. It was one thing to help Spangles, but a completely different thing to have him lying in bed, just an arm’s reach away. The thought made Tony shiver.

“Sleeping? Duh! You told me to come up here? I’m confused?” Steve awkwardly ran his fingers through his hair, feeling a little self conscious.  He blushed as he became more awake, scrambling out of the bed to stand. “JARVIS told me that you said to sleep here? I thought because your bed is all high tech and supposed to help me sleep?”

JARVIS cut in, “Sir, per your request last night before retiring, you wanted Mr. Rogers to sleep in your bed. I imparted the message to him verbatim. Shall I pull up the recording?” His voice seemed slightly affronted.

“No, Jay, it’s fine.” Tony mumbled. “I need to be up any ways. Feel free to crash, Cap. I’ll be downstairs.”

********************************************************************

_What the hell? Steve in my bed? Everyone thinks I’m acting mopey. Screw your head on straight, and get your shit together._  Tony was having an eventful morning chastising himself. He needed to be more of his reputation. Heartless, bitchy, and snarky. He could do that.

He strolled up to the common floor after spending most of the night in the lab. Again. For the millionth time. The coffee scent greeted him from the second he opened the elevator and he smiled.

Tasha was making waffles, red curls piled messily into a loose bun. She was wearing a large t-shirt, most likely Bruce’s. She stole everyone’s clothing, just about. Bruce was reading a book, sipping his tea. Seriously, the guy was a 90 year old mentally. On the other end of the spectrum, Clint was complaining that food wasn’t being presented fast enough. Definitely the 4 year old mentally.

Steve wasn’t anywhere to be found, thank goodness. He remembered late last night, early this morning, and blushed slightly. Eh, whatever.

“I’m hungry. NOW. Why can’t anyone invent something that feeds me instantly?” Clint complained loudly. “Are the waffles done yet?”

Tony chuckled to himself, and poured himself a cup. Right before he pulled the cup to his lips, tasting the glorious bitterness, he felt an arm wrap around his waist and tensed, stepping away from the contact. He tried to hold back the hiss that came out, but it came out, loudly.

Tasha laughed and shrugged. “Sorry. Just testing a theory.” She moved to the waffle maker again, laughing.

Tony shrugged it off, even though it really did bother him. “Not that I’m not used to being an experiment, but what’s the theory?”

“You secretly are a softie, and physical contact freaks you out. Or at least you pretend it does.” Natasha smirked, but quickly frowned. “What did you mean that you’re used to being the experiment?”

“Oh, you know the whole ‘Howard was a genius and sometimes needed a guinea pig and why not use the failure of a son’ thing. It’s not that surprising, considering.” Tony aimed for nonchalance, making it seem like it was a no big deal, because it wasn’t.

The room fell silent, and Tony stared at his feet. He hated silences. They always felt heavy.

Steve burst in the room, breaking the silence, but making Tony’s jaw drop. _Steve freaking Rogers wearing my t-shirt._ ‘Black Sabbath’. Hey, that was his favorite t-shirt. Damn, he really filled it out perfectly.

“Nice shirt, Steve.” Bruce smiled wryly, like he was in on a joke.

Steve blushed. “It was all I could find that wasn’t torn or had grease.”

“Hey, isn’t that Tony’s shirt?” Clint questioned. “Wait……”

“Okay, okay, before this gets out of hand, I only slept in Tony’s bed. It’s not like he uses it that much in the first place.” Steve hollered. “Plus, someone keeps hiding my shirts.”

“Yeah, because you wear my grandpa’s shirts” Clint snickered.

“Anyways!” Tony interrupted. “How’s my favorite band of killers?”

Tony’s outburst caused Tasha and Clint to start giggling, meanwhile Steve stiffened. Bruce walked out, muttering something about Hulk and not wanting to be in the middle of it.

“We’re not killers,” Steve chastised, full Captain America voice echoing.

“Of course not, Buttercup, it’s a joke” Tony breathed. “Surely, you have a sense of humor?”

“Cap, ease up.”  Clint reined Steve back in, suppressing giggles. “Just relax. No one here wants to fight. Which is a good thing, since any flexing on your part would rip the shirt in two.” He started giggling again.

“I will fight you if you ruin my favorite shirt, Rogers. That’s a promise.” Tony narrowed his eyes.

“Okay lovebirds, get over here and eat before Clint inhales it and gets his stomach pumped from over eating.” Natasha began to sip her coffee, slightly smirking, but sliding her hand against Tony’s for a second, just to see him jump again.

Tony groaned. This was going to be a long day.

 

 

 


	7. Therapy turned Ultimatum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thanks for traveling Stony Airlines, we appreciate the time you've spent with us. Please keep in your seats until landing, in the upright position, and buckled firmly. Once we land, the captain will then announce when it is safe to unbuckle, and unboard. 
> 
> Thank's for traveling Stony Airlines, and have a great day.

“Bruce, don’t even bring up what happened upstairs, or so help me, I’m going to throw something at you,” Tony grumbled from underneath the 1925 Rolls Royce.

“Hey, I come in peace, and I’m not going to talk about it if you don’t want.” Bruce laughed and sat down on the stool near the workbench. “However, if YOU want to talk about it, sure, let’s chat.”

“My shirt, Bruce. My. Shirt.” Tony hollers, still muffled somewhat by the car. “Not even just that. That seriously is my favorite shirt. Is he still wearing it? If so, I want it back. Immediately.”

“Tony, it’s not that big of a deal, plus, I don’t think anyone cares that much about him wearing it. I mean, deep down, we’re all good, and we care. You just have to get past the fact that they tease you.” Bruce calmly stated. “Also, a lot of the team doesn’t know how to handle you. Take Natasha, she knows you need someone, and need at least some kind of physical comfort, but you react so harshly to it, she’s confused that giving you what you want would push you further away. So that’s why she respects your distance.”

_Hadn’t thought about that before. “_ That’s not important. It doesn’t matter what I need. It only matters what the facts are.” Tony felt the words come out of his mouth, and he sounded like Howard for a moment, causing Tony to frown. “What I mean is, don’t worry about me. If someone else needs something, yeah, let me know. But I do just fine.”

“But do you?” Bruce interrupted. “You’re always busy putting on this persona of being a jerk and a pushover to anyone in a group of more than two, but once we get you one on one, you’re completely different. Like now. If I told you that Betty and I were having problems, you’d stop working on the car and sit with me and talk. Aren’t I entitled to do the same?”

“Hey, it’s a free country, do whatever you want.” Tony bit out, harshly, and instantly regretted it. “Bruce, I didn’t mean that. I’m just, I guess I’m confused. About everything. And everything that happened doesn’t help.”

He didn’t have to go into detail, because it seemed Bruce knew exactly what he was talking about.”Tony, just promise me one thing: When someone, anyone in the team tries to give you what you need, don’t say no. You don’t necessarily have to scream what you want, but if someone tries, let them.”

Tony groaned internally. Bruce wouldn’t let it drop if he didn’t say yes. “Fine, Brucie. But only this time.”

Bruce laughed at that, and then the conversation turned to the normal banter of how much research needed to be done.

*********************************************************

Why was there knocking on Tony’s bedroom door? No one knocked on his door, because no one was ever on his floor. _I’m going to kill Bruce in his sleep if he sent a therapist._

“Listen, I don’t need –“Tony stopped midsentence. “STEVE?”

“Uh, hey Tony, I was just wondering if I could talk, er, sort of.” Steve looked down and rubbed his neck self consciously, the Black Sabbath t-shirt creaking.

“Sure, America, what’s up?” Tony inquired, allowing Steve to walk in to the room. “Also, that’s my favorite shirt, so I’m going to need that back eventually.”

“Oh?” Steve looked down at himself, and then stripped the shirt off, standing in the middle of the room bare-chested, and turning bright red. The blush started creeping down his body. “Sorry, here you go.”

“Whoa, cap, seriously, you could have kept wearing it for a little longer.” Tony grimaced. “Why didn’t you just go change?”

“Actually, I was being serious. Clint hid all of my shirts.” Steve stood awkwardly in the corner.

“Stupid archer,” Tony mumbled then walked to his closet to get a white t-shirt. “Here, this should fit.”

Steve caught the shirt Tony threw to him, grateful to cover up.

“So, talk to me.” Tony sat on his bed.

“Actually,” Steve looked down again, and started wringing his hands. “I was kind of hoping to do a repeat of last night?”

Tony almost stopped breathing. “Um, what?”

“Like, the sleeping thing?” Steve tried to explain, blush deepening. “Can I just be vulnerable and serious with you Tony?”

“Sure, cap,” Tony began to worry. Steve was going to say some seriously personal stuff, which made Tony’s heart jump a bit. No one ever trusted Tony.

“I’m afraid of losing people in the team; it’s all I dream about.” Steve’s eyes widened a little. “And I know you don’t sleep much, so I figured why wake up anyone else with my nightmares? You’d most likely already be awake.”

Steve got quiet for a second, and then continued, “And, to be honest, I like you. I always know where I stand, even if you don’t like me.”

“Cap, I –“Tony started but stopped. _This is a joke. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t like me. Who put him up to this?_ “I don’t believe you. Who put you up to this? Is this some sort of twisted joke? ‘Everyone mess with Tony’, because this isn’t funny Steve.”

Steve paled. “Tony, no, that’s not what this is. Look, you can just say no, and go back to only helping yourself.” Color tinted Steve’s cheeks, and he was breathing hard, eyes glinting with anger. “I open up to you Stark, and you think I’m a joke. Don’t give me a chance to actually be human, I get it. Like father like son. Daddy Stark would be so proud.” Steve shouted.

Tony visibly winced, causing Steve to wish he could take it back.

“You know what, I don’t care anymore. I’m done with this. Being in a team with the one guy who my father actually considered his son is a waste of time. I get that you think I’m screwed up, and a piece of shit. Oh well.” Tony started stalking out of the room, yelling. “Feel free to sleep on the bed, Rogers. Apparently that’s all I’m good for.”

“Tony –“Steve couldn’t say anything else. The elevator doors shut, blocking out everything. Tony slumped to the side, tears marring his vision.

“Jay, lab.” Tony sobbed.

“Yes sir.”

_I’m a mess. I’m evil. I’m horrible._ Tony kept chanting in his brain, searching for the way out, the release. He found it, in the box of jack he kept in the workshop for such occasions. _Drink so much, I can pass out._


	8. Straightening Tony out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so like, I'm way sorry for the delay. Just started a new job, and planning on moving soon.
> 
> Fingers crossed for the next couple of days because I can have more time to write!
> 
> IF you feel so inclined, leave a comment. They brighten up my day and make it more worthwhile to write.
> 
> Thanks!  
> Lev :)

“Tony, you can’t spend forever down here,” Natasha spoke up suddenly, making Tony jump.

Tony stood up from the table, slurring his words slightly. “Yeah? You gonna stop me?”

Natasha sighed, “Come on, Tony. Be reasonable.”

“I am the epitome of unreasonable, or have you forgotten?” Tony dropped the glass bottle he was holding, causing it to shatter. Dum-E whizzed over to scoop up the mess, while Natasha grabbed Tony by the arm and pulled him away from the mess to the old couch.

“I’m just going to be blunt, because Bruce tried to be soft and gently push, but it’s not working.” Natasha spoke quickly. “Everyone on the team is worried about you for multiple reasons.”

Tony laughed loudly and without humor. “No, that’s not true at all.”

“Tony, listen. I don’t want to hear all your bullshit, so just listen.” Natasha’s eyes flashed dangerously, and Tony fell silent. “We care. So get used to it.”

She proceeded to rub her face with her hand, sighing again. “Steve likes you Tony. Why the heck do you think that he had finally gotten to sleeping when he was around you? Seriously, Tony. You’re smart. Think. He’d been telling me about nightmares weeks ago, and you’re the one who’s in all of them. So you’re the reason he can’t sleep. Which is why him falling asleep in your couch down here, and in your bed works for him.”

Tony opened his mouth again “Tony, don’t. Don’t you dare say something that negates this.” Natasha argued against the conflict in his eyes. “I’ve been watching. I know.”

Tony blinked rapidly, trying to clear the tears forming in his eyes. The booze combined with the emotional talk made him weepy. “It can’t be. I’m a Stark. We are unlovable.”

“That can’t be true. Because the team loves you. And we’re here for you.” Natasha stood, putting a hand on Tony’s. He didn’t flinch or tense.  “If you need me, I’ll be here.”

Tony didn’t hear her leave. He kept staring at the cold concrete floor, focusing on keeping his breathing even. The alcohol started losing its hold on him, giving him a nasty headache. He settled for some Advil and some coconut water to curb the pain, but worked through it.

“Jay” Tony mumbled, “Is Steve busy?”

“Captain Rogers is in his private quarters. He seems to be unavailable at the moment.” JARVIS’s crisp voice sounded sympathetic.

“What’s he doing?”

“It appears he is attempting to draw. He was on his 74th sheet of paper, when he threw the whole notebook against the wall and is laying on his bed, crying. Shall I alert the team? Or perhaps summon Mr. Rogers?” JARVIS must’ve known what was going on.

*********************              

“Excuse the intrusion, Captain, however, Mr. Stark would like converse with you, and would like to know the place and time you feel most comfortable?”

Steve stopped sobbing, hiccupping slightly. “Whenever, JARVIS. Can you let Tony know I’m sorry?”

“Certainly. I will pass the information along.”

Steve rolled off his bed, walking into the bathroom. He pulled out a towel, got it warm, and rubbed his face. He remembered his mom doing that to him as a child, when he’d cry, sad when he couldn’t play in the snow for sake of getting sick all over again. All he ever wanted as a boy was to be like the other boys.

Tony was right. He wasn’t a good person. He wouldn’t ever fit in. He was the problem.

 


	9. Rhodey's Unbiased?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony got Steve to agree to chat things over, but before he puts his foot in his mouth, he calls his best friend to make sure he knows what he's doing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'm horrible, this has taken forever to write, BUT, good news, Monday and Wednesday should be the days I'm free to update this. 
> 
> This chapter is just kind of a filler, kind of. There was some important stuff going on, and I wanted Tony to see that not only should he be nice, but he deserved the nice things too. Rhodey's a good bro.
> 
> Me and my brain would like to thank you for reading this far, and for being totally awesome, like we know you are.
> 
> (I should make STONY t-shirts).
> 
> Anways, peace out, ma friends!
> 
> Lev

”Sir, Captain Rogers wishes me to extend and apology on his behalf, and is open to any time or place.” JARVIS’ crisp voice cut through the silence after what seemed forever.

Tony paused, thinking what would be best in this situation. “Let him know that we’ll meet tonight after dinner, if he’s okay with that.”

Once JARVIS confirmed, Tony called Rhodes: The only person he could get unbiased advice from.

************************

A couple hours later, in the middle of a diner, inconspicuous by the looks of it, Tony found himself fidgeting. Rhodey should show up any minute, and then this whole fiasco would be solved.

“So who am I saving you from today, Tones?” Rhodes teased lightly, and Tony felt as if the world had righted itself again.

“Just myself this time.” Tony smiled, and laughed.

“It’s always yourself, Tones” Rhodey playfully mussed Tony’s hair, to Tony’s complaint.

They settled for playful banter, back and forth, until food came. Food was a good enough distraction that Tony could say what was really going on.

“So, real problem,” Tony started, “but I want an unbiased opinion, and I’ll explain it like an equation so you don’t pick sides.”

“Sure, man, what’s going on?” Rhodey gazed at Tony thoughtfully.

“So person A apparently didn’t know person B was into them, and person B kind of had a heart to heart attempt with person A, and then, you know, it didn’t work out, so person B is in pain, person A is in pain because he thought person B was joking, and didn’t realize it. I guess there are just hurt feelings on both sides?” Tony’s eyebrows came together, scrunching in confusion.

“Mmmmm,” Rhodey chewed slowly, pondering. He wasn’t trying to figure out who was who, but give Tony what he wanted. That was an unbiased opinion. “So, third party here. I think that both A and B need to apologize. To each other. I understand why A did what they did. They’re afraid, and probably weren’t thinking right in the moment, but B did the same thing. So, an apology on both ends would be good.”

Tony sighed. He could apologize. But Steve would never apologize to him, right? _Wait. Steve likes me. Well, maybe that’s just a flaw on Natasha’s part, but I could apologize to Steve. He already tried apologizing to me._

Tony did what Tony does best: destroy all person interest on how hurt his feelings were in the mess, and focus on someone else. That’s all he ever heard from Howard. _My feelings don’t matter, do they?_

Tony shrugged off the thought, finishing his dinner. Rhodey scraped his plate clean, and then got dessert. “So, Tones, now that you’re all buttered up, I want you to realize that even if you’re person A, or person B, you need to take care of yourself. Screw anyone else who thinks you don’t matter, okay? You matter, and you’re worth it. All of it. If they give you a hard time, tell them to come to me!”

“Why, so you could show them your impressive eating skills? How are you still eating?” Tony laughed, causing Rhodes to laugh too.

“I’ll intimidate them, and my sexiness is genetic!” Rhodes got out before falling into fits of laughter with Tony. They were drawing attention, but neither of them cared. The carefree moment was nice, and Tony needed it.

“Well, I’ll get it all sorted out.” Tony stood to go. “Thanks for this, okay? I really needed this.”

“You bet, bro. I’ll be here to kill anyone who hurts you, okay?” Rhodey walked out; back to the apartment he stayed at when he wasn’t at the tower.


	10. Nice Nudge, Steve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tasha gives a little nudge, and hey, it pays off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey friends, so totally sorry this took so long. I got sick. Like, totally. Also, I'm watching kids full time since my sister also just had a baby. Let's not forget school, full time job, and possibly moving. 
> 
> But thank you so freaking much for staying with me this long. The story is ALMOST over, so thanks for enjoying this ride with me.
> 
> A crap-ton of thanks,
> 
> Lev

Steve forgot how long he’d been punching the bag. All he knew is that his hands perpetually stung, regardless of how many breaks he took. He flexed his fingers, hearing the joints pop loudly.   
“So are you going to tell me what I did wrong?” Steve bit out, hearing Natasha almost silently sneak into the gym. “This whole thing was your idea. I knew Tony didn’t like me.” Each sentence was punctuated with at least five hits.  
Natasha sat silent, watching. Steve paused when she wouldn’t talk and looked her way. “Look, I’m sorry Tasha, but he doesn’t care.”  
“Steve, did you tell him how you felt?” Tasha paused and thought more. “With Tony, you have to be direct when you’re being positive. Otherwise he shrugs it off. He can’t tell.”  
“Well, no I didn’t just come out and say it,” Steve thought. “He won’t give me a chance to talk.”  
“Not true.” Tasha started leaving, sensing the problem itself was fixed. She just needed to give Steve another nudge. “Let me know how the honeymoon goes.”  
She laughed as Steve’s cheeks darkened. Thoughts filled Steve’s mind of him and Tony, tangled up in a heap of limbs and sheets. He shook his head to clear it and defend himself from Tasha, but she was gone.  
He blew out a long sigh. Let’s get this over with.  
************************************  
Tony sat on the edge of the couch, waiting. He fidgeted with his hands, and then played with the hem of his shirt. It was slightly stretched from its last use, but it was his favorite shirt. He had washed it, but it still smelled like Steve. Like safety.  
He crinkled his nose, involuntarily smelling the shirt. Again. For the fortieth time. He jumped up when he heard the knock. “ Come on in.”  
Steve peeked his head around the door, the rest of his body following soon after. “Tony?” His hands were only a little pink, and Tony figured he’d been down in the gym, punching whatever he could because Tony had screwed up again.  
“Hey, Steve, I just wanted to say sorry.” Tony blurted, “I realize I should have been kinder, and not freaked out.” He looked at the ground, hearing Steve stop in his tracks. All he heard was Steve’s breathing.  
“I’m sorry too.” Steve articulated, speaking slowly, as if he’d scare Tony off. “I realized I have to be really blunt with you. So, um, I’ll try. Just be blunt with me okay? Don’t be afraid.”  
Tony tensed with each passing sentence. All he wanted now was to run, far, until he couldn’t breathe and his legs collapsed. His body tightened, not knowing what to do with the feeling. His stomach dropped, and he began to feel ice cold. This is it. He’s going to be asked to leave the team. He was unstable.  
“Yes. I’ll leave the team,” Tony bit out, trying to not show emotion. Starks don’t cry, and while Tony’s Captain America poster had seen Tony cry himself to sleep many nights as a child, he wasn’t about to let the real deal see it. He could only imagine what Howard would say if he were here.  
“Tony, no, that’s not –“ Steve was cut off by Tony.  
“No, it’s okay. I understand.” Tony turned away, “Sorry about all of this. It was only a matter of time.”  
The room fell silent. Too silent. Tony hated the silence, but couldn’t think of anything to say. He closed his eyes, not even able to bring himself to see the disappointment on Steve’s face.  
All he heard was Steve cross the room, but before he could open his eyes, he felt Steve’s arms wrap around him tight, feeling Steve’s warm breath on his neck.   
“Steve, please get off” Tony tensed up, unused to the contact.  
“No. Tony, you need this.” Steve’s breath ticked Tony’s neck. “You’re not leaving the team, and you’re not leaving me. I can’t believe that for even a second you honestly thought we would ask you to leave the team.”  
Steve finally pulled back, cupping Tony’s jaw, feeling the smaller man relax slightly.  
“The team loves you, Tony.” Steve stared at Tony for a long moment, eyes softening.  
“I love you, Tony.”


	11. A Closing Invitation

Tony stopped talking immediately. _What? There’s no way he could love me._ Tony attempted to squirm out of the reach of Steve, but instead felt his grip tighten. “I don’t understand.”

Steve sighed; he knew what Tony was doing. He knew that Tony would disregard it, make himself believe that it wasn’t true. The thought made Steve’s heart ache that much more. This man he was holding was so used to being undesirable, that once someone desired him, he couldn’t even comprehend it. He swung Tony up over his shoulder.

Tony kicked, and squirmed some more, but his dad’s handiwork proved to be perfect. Secretly, deep down in a place Tony knew of but thoroughly denied, Tony’s heart leapt to think someone could finally love him. The manhandling from the larger man made his stomach turn in delight. All he could do was hang limply, swinging dangerously close to Steve’s bottom. He fought the urge to grasp one, finally caving, and softly guiding his hand over the firmness, just light enough that if Steve noticed, he couldn’t say it was purposeful.

Tony kind of lost track of time, and by kind of, he totally did. After smelling Steve, feeling his warmth in the hug, and then staring at his firm behind, Tony was overloaded. This was not going the way he had planned. He was sure he’d have to insult someone before things got too mushy, because that’s what he did. Insult and snark.

He couldn’t tell how long he was being carried; all he knew is that he was being set down on a bed that wasn’t his. He was tired of all this, so he laid down.

“Good, you’re getting the idea.” Steve’s voice rumbled. He slid in next to Tony, wrapping his arms around the brunette tightly. “Oh, and by the way, I felt you touch my butt.”

Tony couldn’t feel embarrassed, not with Steve nuzzling into his hair. “Couldn’t help myself” Tony sighed, pressing his lips against Steve’s warm neck. “Don’t worry, I’ll wake up and this will be a dream.”

“Guess I better make the dream count, eh?” Steve rolled, pressing Tony into the mattress firmly, kissing him urgently, nibbling his lower lip. “I hope you never wake up from this.”

“S-s-steve?” Tony called out, pushing the blonde back slightly. “Can you just, stop, please? Just, stay where you are. Don’t move.”

Steve left his weight pressed against the smaller man, and Tony wrapped what he could around him, enjoying the feeling of being pressed up next to someone, craving the physical contact.

He couldn’t remember much else.

 

***************************

Tony woke up, the blanket feeling cold. He knew last night was a dream.


	12. Happy End

_I can’t do this anymore. I can’t be here anymore._ Tony thought to himself, feeling himself tear up. He sat up, shoved the blanket off, and stormed out of the bedroom. He couldn’t think, barely noticing where he was or where he was going until he stubbed his toe up against one of his many worktables in the shop.  He cursed to himself, stumbling further in, and perused the room to find the worn, smelly couch.

 

Upon finding it, he unceremoniously threw himself onto it, bouncing lightly. “Jay, how long would it take for everyone to find me if I ran away?”

”Well, Sir, considering Captain Rogers is heading downstairs to your location this instant, I would estimate not long.” The British voice lilted with sarcasm towards the end of the sentence.

Tony had just enough time to jump up from the couch, and Steve nudged the door open. “Tony, I know you’re in here. I brought you coffee.”

When Tony didn’t say anything, Steve set the coffee down, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I’m just peachy,” Tony settled for his press smile, “thanks for the coffee, though.”

Steve rolled his eyes, and crossed the distance between them, wrapping his arms around Tony, squeezing tightly. “Thanks for last night” Steve breathed in Tony’s ear.

“Last night?” Tony’s eyes felt himself tense up, realizing _LAST NIGHT WASN’T A DREAM._

“Yeah, babe.” Steve chuckled, rubbing his nose against Tony’s. “You talk in your sleep.”

He pushed Tony towards the couch, pressing him into the cushions with his weight, “Apparently, you love me.” Steve laughed, “Which is good, because I love you.”

 

Tony couldn’t if anything else was said. All he could remember was Steve’s lips, warm and soft, molding with his perfectly, almost as if they were meant to be there all along. Although, he could’ve sworn Steve chuckling about Pepper being right.


End file.
